


Omen of Echoes

by CplCrimp



Series: Omen of Echoes [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, slightly less gorey than canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CplCrimp/pseuds/CplCrimp
Summary: Deep in the forest, two groups of cats live... / I tried to write a plotted story for my fanclans, but couldn't, so now I'll be writing it in the form of one-shots.discont.





	1. Until Your Name's Next to Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> irresponsible pet owners hike alot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dawn of the glare 1/4

Poppy was absolutely panic-stricken.

She and her housefolk had gone camping in the mountains- but- but her housefolk had just-

Lightning cracked across the sky and a hawk called. Poppy scooped up her mouse and, eyes wide enough to see the whites, ran back to the cave she'd started to call home.

She slipped through the hole hardly big enough for her and stepped down the three steep steps and into the clearing. It was cold but the four caves on one wall nor the cave on the ledge were any warmer.

One moon ago a thunderstorm had broken out in the mountains, where Poppy and her owners were hiking. A particularly loud strike startled Poppy so much she had run from camp seeking a safer place to stay. She'd found this cave but when she returned to the campsite, everyone was gone.

She didn't blame her housefolk for leaving without her, but it didn't mean her heart didn't hurt when she got left behind.

Poppy quietly started to eat her mouse as the thunderstorm pounded outside, just as her routine had been for the past month.

(...)

Too many scratches. Too many scratches.

Every day, Poppy scratched a line into the cave above the ledge. The cave had a few sharpened stones from top and bottom that Poppy used to know the name of, but wouldn't know now.

Too many scratches for her to count. Was this a year visualized? She had no clue.

Poppy didn't know many things, but she knew a few things. She knew that finding a mouse and waiting for a hawk provided more prey than just the mouse. She knew hawks and eagles had claws and stars above, they were dangerous.

She knew that after the thunderstorms strands of red, yellow, sky blue and ocean-blue would spread across the sky. She knew she used to know the word for that, too.

She knew she was calling herself the Cat of Flying Colors.

She knew that one day a hawk had snatched her by the fern-green collar her owners had picked out for her and after struggling, she'd slipped out of it. She knew that after that day she no longer felt like she was waiting for a… a Nofur to take her home, no longer a pampered pet being fed dry pellets that tasted and felt like deep-fried tablescraps drenched in dirt.

She was the Cat of Flying Colors, master of the mountain. No Nofur  _dare_ tame her.

Then Flying Colors faintly heard a noise. Not as loud as thunder, but just as angry. A motor?

Slowly, Flying Colors padded from her cave and around the path of the mountain, all the way down into the big cliff were campers made their sites.

Sure enough, there sat that sickly-looking fern-green four-wheel-drive. Various dark-pelted Nofurs with darker tufts at their heads in too-bright accessories dragging packages and bundles out from the mouth of the monster.

Flying Colors turned around to make the journey back to her cave. There wasn't any greenery on her side of the mountain, not enough that Nofurs would be interested in, and the beach and ocean weren't hardly worth it.

(...)

Too loud, too loud.

Mice didn't like the sound of humans. Hawks didn't like the sound of mice. Songbirds hung around anyone who would listen and compliment, and had moved down to the camp. The songbirds moved, so Flying Colors went with them.

A warbler sat on a branch a tail-length under the cliff. If Flying Colors went down, she'd undoubtably break her neck on the rock below and die, still preyless. So, Flying Colors was twitching her tailtip and waiting for the warbler to fly up into her outstretched paws. Unfortunately, a cry of Nofur fear sounded behind her and the bird shot up, too fast for Flying Colors to catch. Valuing her safety over a meal that honestly wasn't hardly worth it, Flying Colors backed up on her haunches and closer to the Nofur.

Another cry and suddenly, Flying Colors' pelt was met with a flurry of paws. No claws came, rather worthless cold nubs. Flying Colors unsheathed her claws and narrowed her pupils to slits, about to attack. Atop her stood a ginger tom, hardly muscular and more fur and bone and stomach than power. A strange pink-and-white symbol cat at his chest rather than a bell or tags, and at the end of his paws his claws were replaced with the equally-pink nubs.

Flying Colors let out a hiss, batting him sideways back to his Nofurs with her claws sheathed. No cat could fight the Cat of Flying Colors and  _win._

The ginger tom leaped into the long-furred Nofur's arms and suddenly another rushed over, holding a strange silver stick. It let out a  _click_ and Flying Colors knew she didn't need to know the name of it to know she'd better run for her life. A pebble scraped against her tail and a thunder-like sound rang out from the contraption, but Flying Colors was out of sight too fast for another attempt.

Maybe some things could fight her and win.

(...)

It was late at night the next time Flying Colors heard a sound, the clattering of paws unused to stone walking along it. Flying Colors ignored all her instincts to lay there and die of starvation and stood, exhausted.

On the downsteps of her tunnel stood the tom, a yellow, blue and gray thing in his jaws, looking around. Flying Colors flattened her ears to her head.

"What do  _you_ want?"

The tom jumped, then purred, then made his way up the steps. Flying Colors didn't unblock the tunnel or let him inside. The placed the bag at the edge.

"I'm sorry my dad tried to shoot you," he mewed, "You look starved. I thought you'd like some food."

Flying Color backed up, reluctantly, and let the tom into his cave with his…  _food._

The tom came in and jumped down beside her, holding the bag in his hind legs and biting and pawing at the top. Until, eventually, came a  _zzrripp!_ and the tom tilted the bag over, grabbing it by the end, making everything fall out. They were tan pellets yet somehow looked softer than the things her Nofurs would feed her.

"They're salmon flavored!" the tom informed.

Flying Colors crouched over the pellets, slowly licking one up. It was  _a flavor,_ alright. Stronger than the hard pellets her Nofurs had given her. Flying Colors swore to the stars she'd blacked out for several minutes, because next thing she knew, all the tan things were gone. The tom blinked in surprise.

"Uh," he mewed, "My name is Archie."

The dark tabby nodded. "Flying Colors."

Archie tilted his head. "Flying Colors?"

Flying Colors backed away, "...Flying Colors. Thank you for the meal."

Without another word, she sprung into the cave above the ledge. Archie, stunned, bundled up his bag and headed out of the cave- not without one final glance at where Flying Colors had jumped.

(...) -  **vomit tw**

A month. That's how long Archie and his owners had stayed in the mountains. Every day, the tom would come to Flying Colors and Flying Colors would teach him to catch prey properly.

Archie licked behind Flying Colors' ear and purred.

"Flying Colors," he mewed softly, "You were a housecat before you came to the mountains, right?"

Flying Colors cringed a bit, pulling her head away. She felt her heart pound harder against her lungs and ribs.

"Y-yeah?"

"Well," Archie went on, "If you're chipped, maybe my housefolk can return you to them."

Flying Colors felt her hackles rise. "Ch-chipped?  _Return?"_

Archie nodded, "Yeah!" he exclaimed, standing and pacing around her. "Don't you miss your owners?"

" _Ha!"_ Flying Colors shot up, startling Archie and making his own hackles rise. "Do I miss my owners? After they leave me here for  _over a year?_ Oh,  _Archieee…._ The kittypet stereotype is that ginger cats are dumb!" Her voice changed to a growl, "You didn't need to prove it."

Archie flattened his ears to his head. "What? Surely they miss you, Flying Colors!"

"If they missed me they would've come looking after the storm passed," she replied icily.

Archie's eyes widened and he looked up at the tunnel. "...my housefolk will be looking for me," he mewed, then cringed, then turned to Flying Colors to apologize for his choice of words. Flying Colors had already turned away, so Archie just snapped his jaws shut and rushed out.

Almost immediately, Flying Color's stomach felt awful. Was it regret or was something wrong with her?

Either way, she rushed out and ran to a ledge. She hardly made it fast enough before some disgusting-feeling  _something_ was making it's way up and out of her throat. Hacking a bit and coughing up one other thing, Flying Colors leaned back and panted. It felt like her stomach was full of pebbles and it was  _not_ comfortable. She needed them out, but why was her body choosing like this?

Gaining her breath, Flying Colors dragged her paws onward, toward the river that lead down to the ocean. Cleanest non-rainwater the mountain got. Flying Colors forced herself to lay on her side and look at her stomach. She felt her heart skip a beat.

It was big. Too big for a half-starving cat surviving off either one mouse or housecat treats. Her teats looked like the color of a sunset. Flying Colors felt her chest tighten and her voice came out in a sob.

"Oh, stars above…."

(...) -  **end tw**

Flying Colors was trying her best to make her way down to Archie's campsite. Inwardly she was still terrified of that man and his stick. Archie met her half-way.

"Flying Colors!" he exclaimed, voice strained, "I have, uh, news."

"Archie! So do I."

Archie sat down and shuffled his paws. "You first."

"I'm expecting kits! Yours!"

Archie's green eyes went wide. So big Flying Colors could see the whites around them.

"O-oh," he mewed, "U-um… Me and my owners. We're… we're leaving today."

Flying Color's heart skipped. "What?"

"We're leaving. Going back home."

"A-Archie you can't-" Flying Colors glanced around, desperate but unable to hold his gaze, "You can't  _leave me!_ How can I feed a kit and myself all alone?!"

Archie shook his head and stood. "I-I'm sorry, Flying-"

Flying Colors unsheathed her claws and lashed her tail. "Fine. Get out of my sight before I do something I'll regret."

Archie shuffled his paws, "I-I love you."

Flying Colors huffed. She didn't really have the heart to hurt him, not at all, but she was  _furious._ Archie ran off, kicking up a bit of wind.

 _Yes_ , Flying Colors thought to herself,  _The kitten will be named Short Breeze_.

(...)

Short Breeze was a dark tabby with her father's ginger patches, but just as handsome. She seemed to grow all-too fast. Then one day, Flying Colors had to tell her what that thunderous sound was.

Two weeks later, Short Breeze brought home two cats named Buck and Circe. Flying Colors knew the look in her eyes all too well.

(...)

Buck had renamed himself Buck's Antler to fit in with Short Breeze and Flying Colors. Circe had not changed her name.

Short Breeze purred and licked his cheek. "I'm going to name our child after you."

Buck's Antler hummed, "Hardened Hooves?"

"Tawny Spots."

"Fawn Heart."

"Arched Legs!"

Flying Colors shifted her elderly paws, then mewed, "No Arches."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: caroline - colter wall
> 
> flying colors and archie reunite in the glare of stars above <3


	2. Snake Mountain Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bunch of dumbasses get their literal pelts saved by a mountain man and his wife and son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dawn of the glare 2/4

Leaf had always been curious about the mountains. Maybe it wasn't his smartest decision, but Leaf never advertised himself to be a smart cat.

The past few nights, he'd been all the way down his street and half-way into another, alerting his friends he was going on a journey and if they wanted to come, he'd be waiting at the creek until midnight.

So there he was, taking a drink from the creek a little before midnight. Grass crunched and two cats stepped forward, one a huge calico and the other a huge tabby. Leaf flattened his ears in fear.

"H-Hello," he greeted.

The calico dipped her white head, "A little birdie told me you were going up to the mountains."

Leaf swallowed thickly. "Did that little birdie happen to be a snow-white molly in a purple collar?"

The tabby nodded.

 _Oh God,_ Leaf thought,  _How many cats did Aloe tell?_

He felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of that very beautiful cat. Then again, he figured, Aloe always was a chatterbox.

"So… what are your names?"

"I'm Hawk," answered the dark tabby, "And this is my girlfriend, Sparrow."

Leaf nodded then looked around at the cats around him. Leaf thought that Shades was watching the two buff cats intently, but couldn't much see with her dark eyes. Bullseye, Eclipse and Broadway were working to get eachother's collars off. Inwardly, Leaf wondered if Broadway was only coming because Bullseye and Eclipse were his kits, and they weren't a year old just yet. Mango and Ripple were grooming eachother and Cloudy and Ice, the second two youngest, who were a year old, were bumping into eachother like the lovebirds they were.

Leaf stepped forward, letting out a small meow to catch their attention.

"Is everyone alright to leave?"

After various nods and mews of approval, Leaf nodded to himself.

"Then… let's head on."

Leaf led all the cats onward. Leaf's housefolk had gone hiking in the mountain before, even taking him once or twice. He also knew that at some point beside the mountains was the beach, which he had never gone to.

(...)

It was an uncomfortable several weeks. The trees were mostly gone, and they'd all torn up their paws extraordinarily. Eclipse's stomach growled and he curled into his father. The entire family looked skinnier than usual. Misty was only large because of her fur.

Leaf sat down and looked around at his cats, wondering if they'd die before they reached somewhere they could thrive.

Wait-

He rushed back up, "Where's Mango?"

Shades shot up, "Huh?"

Suddenly everyone was on their feet, and they were rushing further on, scouting around the rocks, calling for the molly. Until, finally, a gray-and-brown bundle crashed into Leaf. She stood.

"H-hide!" she panted.

"Wh-why?" Leaf demanded.

"Don't ask! Just hide!"

The cats shuffled their paws, looking at eachother. Suddenly, Mango's worry proved itself real, and a big sand-colored cat-like creature ran up, roaring. Leaf's group started to run back, but Broadway was petrified. Leaf skidded to try and run up and grab him, but the puma reached him first and grabbed the black tom by the hind leg. The tom yowled and Leaf stared, water filling his eyes as he was thrown around like a toy.

Then, a cat quickly leaped over Leaf, landing squarely on the puma's face.

" _Sparrow!"_ Leaf exclaimed, preparing to pounce himself.

Broadway was thrown away, tumbling into Leaf and down the slope where the rest of the group was waiting.

"What happened?" asked Bullseye.

"Dad!" Eclipse rushed up, pulling him by his scruff.

"I can't… feel my leg," Broadway huffed. Misty rushed forward. Leaf panted and leaped up the slope.

"Where are you going?!" demanded Ice, following.

"I've gotta save Sparrow."

Ice flattened his ears and went on with him. Sparrow was tossed on the rocks, fur fluffed up. The puma's eyes and face were covered in scars.

All of a sudden, yowls rang out from upside the short cliff face. Spitting and screaming, three cats emerged. The puma whimpered and its eyes went wide, suddenly running off in the other direction. The three stepped down from the ledge, looking at Sparrow, Leaf and Ice.

"Greetings," mewed a silver tabby, "May we ask your business?"

"Uh- yes," Leaf mewed, glancing between the three. The tallest was a silver tabby tom, the shortest was a tortoiseshell, and the last was the same silver but with tortoiseshell stripes.

"Leaf," panted Misty, leaping up, "Br-Broadway's losing alot of blood, we don't-"

"Stars above," mewed the silver tabby, "Bring Broadway up, we'll help them," he nodded to each of his friends, "Short Breeze, Deer Nose, go see if there's any leaves around."

The tortoiseshell nodded and rushed off the other way. Leaf, Misty and Ice turned back, and with the help of Mango, Cloudy and Hawk, brought the tom upward. The tom's bright yellow eyes were suddenly so dull, and he already looked dead.

"Up here," the tom mewed, jumping up the step and dragging the tom with him, leaving the rest of the cats to sit on the ledge below or follow. Bullseye and Eclipse followed, along with Ripple, who curled her tail around one and licked the head of the teary-eyed other.

"That cougar got you good, huh?" the tom asked rhetorically as Leaf's group slowly curled around the injured tom. Soon enough, Short Breeze and Deer Nose came running back, dropping colorful flowers and big leaves at their paws.

The tom immediately started to press the flowers into Broadway's leg, wrapping and tying the big leaf around it.

"There you go," he mewed, waving his tail. "Come back to our cave with us, he needs to heal."

Bullseye and Eclipse rushed forward, Broadway let out a weak thanks as the tom and Deer Nose helped him onto their backs.

Short Breeze pointed up the slope with her stubby tail, up the rocky outcrops and steps. "Our cave is just up there. Deer Nose?"

"Mhm?"

"Will you and Circe go down to the river and collect damp moss to clean up wounds?"

Deer Nose nodded and started taking leaps and bounds upward.

(...)

"How can we ever thank you?" Leaf mewed, watching as Shades leaped from the ledges at the entrance of the cave.

The tom dipped his head. "Could I get your names?"

Leaf pricked his ears, "Oh, well, I'm Leaf."

The silver tabby nodded, sitting beside him. Leaf pointed with a paw to each cat in turn.

First the mostly white calico and dark tabby, "That's Sparrow and Hawk."

Next at the blue smoke and the dark, blue-gray spotted, "Those are Misty and Ripple."

Then at the pale-and-white tom running his head under the fluffy gray she-cat, "They're Ice and Cloudy."

Then at the small light tabby with the dark stripe around her eyes, chatting with the gray-brown chimera, "That's Shades and Mango."

Finally, at the three black cats. "Those are Broadway, Eclipse and Bullseye. Bullseye is the one with big eyes."

The tom nodded, "Of course. I'm Buck's Antler," he pointed at the short tabby and silver tortoiseshell, cleaning Broadway's wound, "That's my mate Short Breeze and my son, Deer Nose."

Leaf turned to a gray tabby, her eyes closed and body covered in scars. "Who's that?"

Buck's Antler sounded as if he throat went dry, "That's Circe. She's my… sister. When we were still kittypets, our owners left us in the mountains and she's still not very happy about it."

Leaf passed a regretful glance to the tabby. Were his housefolk worried about him?

"Well," Buck's Antler mewed after a moment, "Will you be staying with us?"

"I believe so."

Buck's Antler purred, "Good. Please, gather some of your cats and Deer Nose and he'll show you how to make bedding."

Leaf stepped closer to the strange-pelted tom. He looked up, yellow eyes sparkling.

Stars, his eyes were beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: snake mountain blues - colter wall
> 
> i spent so long looking for songs that were about literally climbing a mountain and not metaphorically climbing a mountain. i dont even fucking know what this song is about


	3. I May Not Live To See Our Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all my friends are dead ft. bad grieving methods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the glare of flying colors lives in a mountain by the ocean. in its ending years they had huge trouble with rogues stealing prey

Yowls rang out all around Clover Fur.

She sprung up from a boulder and landed squarely on a tabby's shoulders, clawing relentlessly at his ears.

" _RETREEEAAT!"_

Clover Fur wasn't sure if the yowl was from a Glare member or from the rogues, either way, both she and the rogue she'd jumped on top of bounded off. She looked desperately around for Owl Patch, but the first cat she saw was a small ginger tom, bleeding from the cheek, chest stained white.

"Flaming Dawn!" she panted.

The tom looked up, one of his eyes closed. "Cl-Clover Fur! I-is everyone back in the cave? Starry Sky didn't sneak out and follow, did she?"

"She's in big trouble if she did."

"Not if we find her corpse first."

Clover Fur panted and stepped closer to the tom, keeping him against his shoulder. She looked over him toward the outcrop.

"Glare of Stars Above," she said grimly.

"What is it?"

"It-it's covered in blood."

"Are there bodies?"

"Not anymore."

"Oh, Glare of Stars Above, I hope everyone's alright…" Flaming Dawn whimpered.

Clover Fur nodded, looping her stubby tail around his haunches to help him up the peak. At the entrance, Deer Nose's voice rang out.

"Where are Clover Fur and Flaming Dawn's bodies?"

Clover Fur helped Flaming Dawn down the steps. "What bodies?" she called back, echoing into the cavern and slowly making her way as their bloods dipped to the rock. "We're alive."

Finally reaching the cavern, Clover Fur joined her Glaremates in sitting in a circle around lots of dead bodies, many unable for her to make out. She looked around the group for Owl Patch, but never saw him. Swan's Wing sat on Flaming Dawn's other side, keeping his head up.

"Is Sunset Cliffs okay?" he asked softly.

Swan's Wing nodded, then cast a teary-eyed glance at his daughter. Clover Fur didn't understand. A few minutes passed before Bat's Eyes stepped forward, gash in his shoulder. Frosty Night and Broken Beams followed him.

The two cats pulled a body from the pile, Broken Beams straining to reach between his age and busted leg. Then, suddenly in front of all of them, laid a mostly-white calico, ginger patches hardly visible under the blood that coated her body. Broken Beams licked her claws back into place and licked her eyes shut as Bat's Eyes spoke and Deer Nose sat next to her.

"Sparrow Gaze," mewed the small black tom, "The Glare of Flying Colors' loyal Sunwatcher. Sandy Shore's guide. She was the first cat to join after the Glare's establishment."

Clover Fur shifted her paws uncertainty. Sparrow Gaze was nearly her mentor.

Next was Little Shade, the smallest Glare hunter. Then came Silent Wind, Cloudy Feather and Ice Belly, all put next to eachother. Leaping Snow let out a wail, tumbling into Cloudy Feather's legs and trying to stretch her tail to Silent Wind and Ice Belly. Clover Fur couldn't imagine the pain she must feel- not only did she lose her brother, she lost her parents.

Then was Swooping Hawk, the strongest fighter of the Glare. She'd died protecting Little Shade. Then were Flying Water and Heron's Catch, Rippling Waves' sons. The elder emerged from her den as Bat's Eyes announced, trying to groom the blood away as if she was preparing them for their student ceremony.

Then was Dark Sunlight, Bat Eye's brother. The black tom stopped and gave a thick swallow, placing a shaking paw to his dark flank.

Finally, Clover Fur felt her heart stop. Dragging her gaze from Dark Sunlight's mangled corpse, she saw Owl Patch. She saw Swan's Wing stiffen and suddenly, her jaws were parted in a wail and she had leaped over to her father's corpse. His fluffy, bright pelt was suddenly matted and dull and, for a moment, it didn't look like the cat who had queened her at all.

Then Bat's Eyes announced Owl Patch and She was sobbing into his pelt. Deer Nose and Gnarled Bark stepped beside her, stroking her back with their tails. The toms looked heartbroken and inwardly Clover Fur wondered if they were quite as torn up about the loss of their son and brother as she was about losing her father.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Swan's Wing stood, through the crowd and toward Moss-in-River's den. Clover Fur let out a yowl, stopping the tan tom in his tracks. His eyes were full of water and he cast a sorrowful stare at his family.

Moss-in-River stepped out from her den, then pressed her nose to his.

"Go back, your daughter needs you more than ever."

The tan tom did, eyes full of regret. That didn't stop Clover Fur from heaving and staring up angrily at him as he pressed his nose into dark brown fur. Deer Nose licked Owl Patch's head, stepping away from the scene and onto his ledge.

"I say these words before the Glare of Stars Above," Deer Nose mewed, "So that they may hear and approve of my choice. The Glare of Flying Colors' next Sunwatcher will be Frosty Night."

The crowd was too lost in grief for any cat to cheer, but from the cats who hadn't lost family, didn't seem surprised in the slightest that Deer Nose chose his little brother. The tom flicked his tortoiseshell-and-silver tail.

"Now, Frosty Night, Broken Beams, help me scout…  _healable_  injuries."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah clover fur has two dads what of it
> 
> title song: the laurens interlude - hamilton off-broadway


	4. Against a Blood-Red Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sunset cliffs says fuck violence!!

Sunset Cliffs stood from her nest in the nursery, catching Tumbling Beams, Speckled Pelt, and Snow Strike's attention.

"Speckled Pelt?" she mewed softly.

"Yes, Sunset Cliffs?"

"Will you… watch Starry Sky for a bit? I need to speak with Tumbling Beams."

The she-cat nodded and Snow Strike gently grabbed the black kit from Tumbling Beams' belly. The black-and-white cat quickly stood and helped Sunset Cliffs out of the nursery and out of the den. In the dusk light, Sunset Cliffs let the black-and-white cat to a ledge before settling herself.

"Is it time?" Tumbling Beams asked softly. Sunset Cliffs nodded. "Oh, Glare of Stars Above…"

Sunset Cliffs dipped her head. "You helped me give birth to Flaming Dawn, I trust you with my life, Tumbling Beams."

"I know," she sighed, "It's nerve-wracking. Say, isn't this the same spot you had Flaming Dawn?"

"Yes," Sunset Cliffs groaned, closing her eyes tight, "Pl-please help, Beams…"

Tumbling Beams huffed and laid down beside her. It wasn't a short or easy birth, not whatsoever, but eventually, a little kit mewled at Sunset Cliffs' belly. Sunset Cliffs slowly cracked open her eyes and looked at the sky. The moon was red.

"Glare of Stars Above," she mewed, "Th-that battle. It was…" she gulped, "It was so awful even the sky is bleeding."

Tumbling Beams hummed, so Sunset Cliffs turned to her kitten. It was black all over, save for a tail as red as blood. Sunset Cliffs closed her eyes.

"Crimson Night."

"...I'm sorry?"

"It's name is Crimson Night. The Glare will come out looking for us and they will see the sky red with the blood of the cats we lost, and Crimson Night will life as a reminder that we don't  _need_ to kill," she cast an angry gaze at Tumbling Beams. "We fought that battle over a newt, Beams."

"I know."

"We lost ten cats over a lizard, Beams."

"...I know."

"...their name is Crimson Night."

Suddenly, the skidding of paws on stone and falling pebbles sounded behind them. There stood a small ginger-and-white tom, who dipped his head. Sunset Cliffs faked a smile.

"Flaming Dawn, come meet your little sibling."

The tom stopped forward and loafed, looking at the small black bundle. He purred.

"I love them," he pressed his nose into the still-wet pelt. "Do they have a name?"

Sunset Cliffs purred. "They do. It's Crimson Night," she cuffed her son over his ear, "Flaming Dawn is the best name I could think of. I wanted to keep the theme."

Flaming Dawn purred happily and pressed his nose to his mother's, tail sweeping along the rock.

"Come on, let's get back inside," Tumbling Beams mewed, "We don't need a hawk taking them," she shot Sunset Cliffs a glance, "We're in need of more hunters."

Sunset Cliffs nodded, motioning for Flaming Dawn to pick the kitten up by the scruff. She stayed close to the tom and her kit, making sure they didn't all off the mountainside. Back inside the nursery, Snow Strike was kneading Sunset Cliffs bed, tags gingling. Once he noticed the group, he stopped and bounded back around his mate.

Sunset Cliffs made herself comfortable and Flaming Dawn set Crimson Night down to feed. Starry Sky wriggled her way back to Tumbling Beams' belly to start her own meal. The she-cat looked to the tortoiseshell and spoke quietly.

"Will you tell Flaming Dawn the truth behind their name? You know he hates battles as much as you do."

Sunset Cliffs shifted and laid her head on her paws, "I'll tell him when Crimson Night learns it means them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you cant tell a kittens gender when theyre first born
> 
> title song: my lullaby - lion king 2


	5. Until Your Name's Next to Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> foliagefur & mistsnout drown in a pool of their own blood while yewleap watches on in not-horror.

Foliagefur hummed to himself. Beautiful night for a medicine cat meeting. He crouched at the edge of the Starpool and curled his tail up to his side, waiting contently. Yes, a beautiful greenleaf night for a medicine cat meeting.

He heard the leaves bristle and turned around to see Yewleap, her sleek red figure flanked by one of Flameclan’s largest warriors, Mistsnout. Foliagefur nodded a greeting.

“May I ask why he came along?” Foliagefur mewed.

Yewleap smirked, “Ivyclan and Flameclan aren’t on best terms currently. Stoatstar insisted.”

Mistsnout nodded, “We met with Mallowheart on the border. Pebblewing is delivering a rather large, rather difficult pregnancy.”

“Oh,” mewed Foliagefur empathetically. Pebblewing had never mentioned bad borders or a heavily pregnant queen in any of their secret meetings. He shrugged it off, “Well, Starclan be with them, then. Shall we start?”

“I would love to…” Yewleap mewed, voice laced in something Foliagefur couldn’t recognize. Yewleap steadily stalked closer. Then, all at once, Foliagefur’s muzzle was underwater. He fought back, terrified, and tumbled over Yewleap. As he landed on top of the skinny cat, she hissed and clawed at the side of his face.

He shrunk away, “Why are you doing this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” she spat back, ears flat to her head. She leaped for Foliagefur, flipping him over and just barely into the pond again. Foliagefur kicked up to get her off and rolled over, only to be shoved by Mistsnout and stumbling into the pool. Mistsnout bopped his head and Foliagefur struggled underwater, wondering where all his training went.

Foliagefur decided he wouldn’t be the only one drowning tonight, and reached out for Mistsnout’s shoulders. Mistsnout stumbled and fell in himself, Yewleap screeching. Mistsnout tore his claws down Foliagefur’s sides, his blood pouring out and upward. Foliagefur knew his end was coming and he knew Mistsnout was too heavy to float.

He dug his claws into the back of his shoulders, biting deep into his neck. It took a far shorter time that it would’ve for him to choke above water. Unfortunately his body was now more of a weight, pinning him to the bottom of the pool.

He reached a ginger paw upward, nearly red itself from each of their bloods, watching his life bleed out of him. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he was holding.

_ Pebblewing, my love, I’ll see you again in Starclan. _

(...)

Pebblewing felt his heart sink. Something was wrong. He shot through the forest and up the Starpool steps, seeing Yewleap drag out a big gray toms body from the pool. Pebblewing felt the need to scream.

Yewleap looked up at him with fury in her eyes, “That little mate of yours just killed my bodyguard.”

Pebblewing couldn’t breathe. Foliagefur? Kill? He rushed up and looked into the pool, faintly making out the figure of Foliagefur through all of the blood. He unsheathed his claws and, eyes setting ablaze in his own fury, yowled.

“You killed him!! The Starpool is full of blood!!” he felt himself hyperventilating, “I’m going to kill you!”

Yewleap narrowed her eyes, “I’d like to see you try.”

Pebblewing panted, too angry and scared to even attempt an attack. He flattened his ears to his head, “You’d better beg Sandy Shore for forgiveness once you die, Yewleap. I’ll make you burn myself.”

Yewleap bared her teeth in a hiss, dragging Mistsnout by the scruff. Pebblewing didn’t wait for either to be out of earshot before straining to grab Foliagefur without swimming. The pool was missing a few good kittensteps, splashed around the rocks and the willow tree.

He managed to grab his mangled mate from the pool, straining to lift him and drag him onto the shore. He was soaking wet, claws still out and stuffed with Mistsnout’s fur. He had long, big scars on either side of his body and he’d been sitting in his own pool of blood so long his ginger patches had been stained red.

Pebblewing choked out a sob, wanting nothing more than to share tongues with him again and talk sleepily and sweetly to eachother when they never should have been. Still sobbing and physically feeling his heart break in his chest, Pebblewing gently grabbed Foliagefur’s scruff and carefully carried him down the steps and toward Cloverclan’s camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: bang bang (my baby shot me down) - nancy sinatra


	6. Lying is the Most Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cloverclan gets exiled

Finchstar shifted in her den. She was still uncomfortable in the rocky hole, even after a moon. She didn’t have a reason to be uncomfortable, it was just a slightly smaller- slightly  _ lonelier-  _ version of the warrior’s den. She didn’t have any reason to be scared, Cloverclan was on good terms with Flameclan, and their and Ivyclan’s borders didn’t touch.

Maybe she was so scared because of all the recent events. Last moon, before she had received her leader name, the clan had caught an awful bought of greencough. Cloverclan always was small, and now they hardly had two warriors and four apprentices. The leaf-bare had taken the leader, Finchstar’s first apprentice, and the apprentice of her’s who had only gotten out of the nursery days before. Then Foliagefur, their only medicine cat, was brought into camp drowned and stained in his own blood.

She didn’t even realize she was up and kneading until she heard a loud yowl. She immediately shot out of her den, leaping to the center of the clearing and yowling her loudest. Quickly, the five cats Cloverclan had left were pouring out of the warriors den, and Fishpaw, the cat who had sounded the alarm, leaped down from the Higher Ledge.

Finchstar pressed her ears flat to her head and nodded for him to explain. Before he could, she heard heavy fern crunching from above. She shook her head and sweeped her tail toward the backup exit of the deep hollow. Branches, roots, and stones above the hauntingly empty medicine den. She watched her cats climb up slowly, bound in absolute depression and anxiety. 

Finchstar watched as five cats rushed down the curved ramp, leaping the steps, only to watch them escape. In the head, a dark tabby with a strange tail Finchstar couldn’t quite make out, yowled out and the cats rushed back up. So many of the cats were large, larger than Blacksong, Cloverclan’s strongest warrior.

They were trying to kill them, Finchstar realized, and they stood to chance.

“Trees,” she hissed to her warriors, “Climb and hide like your lives depend on it- they  _ do.” _

She saw Spiderpaw and Ashleaf, his mother’s, eyes widen in horror. Finchstar didn’t have the time to register the reaction, leaping up to the nearest tree she could see and climbing as high as she could. She soon felt Brackenpaw press beside her and saw Blacksong, Spiderpaw and Honeypaw on a branch close to her. Ashleaf and Fishpaw, her other son, were on a branch not very far below.

She watched cautiously as the cats made their way under the tree, looking around. Hissing and spitting, they ran on. Finchstar never let go of her breath and never spoke. None of Cloverclan slept the rest of the night, knowing they were unsafe.

Eventually, just after daybreak, the clan climbed down and, knowing full well they wouldn’t have their camp back, checked it out anyway. Big, buff rogues were making their way about. The hollow was full of colorful Nofur pelts and other strange things. Finchstar, unable to bear the sight and heavy-pawed, stalked away. Her head was low and her eyes were wide, terrified her anxieties had caused this.

“Finchstar,” called Blacksong, the deputy, “What do we do?”

Finchstar shrugged and shook her head. “Wait at the island until tonight’s Gathering, hope they can’t swim, won’t find us. Ask Stoatstar and Milkstar for help and sanctuary.”

“Will they help?” asked Ashleaf, defeatedly. Her sons looked just as uncertain. Finchstar couldn’t answer and made no effort to flick her tail for them to follow her to the coast.

(...)

“Finchstar,” called Stoatstar, looking higher than ever on the leader’s branch of the old willow tree, “What is this?”

Finchstar dipped her head respectfully. She had no strength to climb up onto the tree. “We were kicked out of our camp and it has been taken over by rogues. We ask for help to drive them out and shelter while we get our strength up.”

Stoatstar’s face shifted in considering. Finchstar looked around. She felt her heart beat hard when she saw it. The dark blue tabby tom, sat between the two large gray-and-cream warriors who’d tried to kill them. She turned back to the tree and looked at the cats under Stoatstar. His deputy and mate, Mallowheart, who had come along with the big cats, and the medicine cat Yewleap who Pebblewing had said killed Foliagefur.

Stoatstar cast a glance down at Mallowheart, a wicked smile on his face, and shook his head.

“No, Finchstar,” he mewed curtly, “If your clan isn’t strong enough to fight off rogues, maybe you don’t deserve your camp anyway.”

Finchstar felt her heart skip a beat. She turned her gaze to Milkstar. Milkstar had always been kind to her. The fluffy molly, eyes filled with water, shook her head as well.

“If the rogues are too strong for you,” she said shakily, crying, “Ivyclan cannot afford to risk it’s own warriors.”

Finchstar felt time freeze, frantically looking around for any help. Then her gaze landed on that fink of a tom, and she realized just how much he looked like Fishpaw. She faintly saw Ashleaf turn his direction too. The hair on the back of the gray cat’s neck stood up and she gained a fighting stance.

_ “You!”  _ she hissed, “You did this!” her voice shook in a sob, “Fishtail, I thought I  _ loved  _ you!”

The tom flicked his tail, clearly showing the two tufts at the end that Fishpaw shared. Both Fishpaw and Spiderpaw froze, gazes shifting between Ashleaf, Blacksong and Fishtail.

“...mom?” whispered the small black tom, “Wh-what do you…”

“But he’s…” Fishpaw joined, neither able to come to terms.

“You rotten badger-hearted piece of mousefodder,” Ashleaf swore, “You leave me and my kits on our own and then try and end the clan we were in?”

“You fink,” Blacksong spat.

Stoatstar let out a yowl to silence the ordeal and the muttering cats around, but neither Ashleaf or Fishtail removed their gazes from eachother.

“Drama between kin does not change my decision,” Stoatstar announced. “Finchstar, rally your clan and drive out the rogues yourself or leave.”

“Mallowheart, Fogstorm and Thunderblaze helped,” Blacksong shot angrily in Finchstar’s place.

“And they will be punished,” Stoatstar shot back, “It is not the duty of the clan to repay their mistakes.”

“Why would you want the cats who chased you out to help anyway?” asked Milkstar softly, making Finchstar realize this really was all Flameclan’s doing. No, she thought, Flameclan cut the first wound but both Flameclan and Ivyclan refused to heal it.

Finchstar regained the stance of a prideful leader, “Yes,” she snarled, “But you will regret this, all of you. Cloverclan  _ will  _ have its revenge.” She swept her tail for her cats to follow.

“Starclan be with you,” Milkstar mewed.

“Starclan has betrayed us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: lying is the most fun (a girl can have without taking her clothes off) - panic at the disco


	7. You Were Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finchstar leaves cloverclan

Finchstar gathered her clan into a tiny place hardly fit enough for two cats to live. She’d whispered the apprentices warrior ceremonies the second they arrived, not thinking any of them would go to the afterlife. Brackenclaw, Honeypelt, Spiderbite, and Fishheart.

Finchstar thought Starclan let this happened to her clan on account of her not meant for leadership. She took it in stride and padded through the nearby Nofur community. She found herself a quaint little home with a big dark-furred Nofur.

If she was going to Starclan before she certainly wasn’t now.

She padded quietly back to Cloverclan, a skinny mouse in her jaws. Camp was too near to Nofurs for much prey to be around.

“Finchstar,” mewed Blacksong as she set it down, “You don’t smell like the forest.”

Finchstar held her breath as all eyes turned to her. She dipped her head shamefully. “I’m becoming a kittypet,” she admitted, “I have failed you by allowing our camp to be stolen from us. I do not deserve Starclan. I do not deserve to lead you.”

“And yet you return every night and make us believe you still care for us,” Blacksong spat back. “Fine. Become a kittypet and don’t return.”

Finchstar nodded and, with her tail tucked under herself, shamefully walked up the small hill. She didn’t bother looking back once she reached the wall and grassy overhang. Blacksong never took her gaze from the wall until Finchstar was completely out of sight.

“Cowardly-Finkstar,” she mewed, turning back to face the clan she was now in leadership of. It was a very long time before anyone spoke.

“...honey?” whispered Ashleaf, ducking her head under the taller molly’s chin.Blacksong was in no mood to purr. “We’re doomed, aren’t we?”

Blacksong looked at the gazes of their kits and her apprentice. The only way that they could carry on warrior blood was by mating with rogues. Blacksong nodded quietly.

“Clanmates,” she announced, “Cloverclan will survive as long as possible.”

Fishheart closed his eyes and wrapped his tail around Honeypelt. He softly mewed, “We will all unite again in Starclan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: loved - fein


	8. If You'll Be My Bodyguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gull gets accepted into ivyclan and almost immediately bangs a man

_ “MMMWRELLLL!” _

“Oh, shut up.”

Gull shifted. She didn’t want to be inside, she didn’t want to be in this darkness, she didn’t want to be on this coldness. She stood, ignoring the cat beside her, and padded through the den. She heard the clacking of claws against hardness and froze. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and watched as an overweight dog with big ears padded around her.

It blinked and paused, moving forward to sniff her pelt. Gull resisted the ever-present feeling of danger in her gut and want to scream. She had no escape, even if she tried.

The dog nodded to itself and padded by. Gull, after a moment’s hesitation, decided to follow.

The dog passed under a flap that clicked as it closed. Gull tried her hardest not to make it click herself. A cold, damp, log-like surface sat on the other side, the sky in a sunset. Gull started to pad past the dog and into the outside world. The dog barked, and after realizing Gull didn’t understand, spread its paws and sat up, trying to become bigger.

Gull nodded and shot off, jumping over the fence, bolting into the woods. She ran for a long time, and eventually found cover under a log. She laid down and panted, the damp earth cooling off her belly. She was about to drift of to sleep before she heard voices. But she couldn’t force herself to run anymore.

“Aspentail!” called a silvery tom, staring right at her as he entered her clearing.

“Yeah?” said another tom, pure white save for his tail and ears, not too much bigger. “Oh…”

Gull let out a deep sigh and couldn’t keep her head up anymore. If these cats tried to fight her, she’d have no defense, she realized. The tom came and sat down beside her, Gull prepared for the worst.

“Your stomach’s covered in blood,” the tom mewed, “Oh, Starclan. Come on, Willowpaw, help me.”

Before she knew it, she was being lifted onto the tom’s shoulders and carried. Eventually she was dropped and dragged by the neck down a thistle tunnel. She couldn’t hardly keep her eyes open, she was so fatigued, what from running and blood loss and hunger.

(...)

Gull had been with the group for moons. Her stomach had healed completely, and she’d been accepted into the clan. Aspentail, the tom who had found her, had become her mentor alongside his real apprentice, Willowpaw.

It’d be a lie to say Gull hadn’t fallen head-over-heels for the tom. Not that Aspentail was willing to show his own affections in the clan. But that didn’t stop the two from walking through clearings with their pelts pressed together, purring. Which is just what they were doing, wading through golden flowers like they were water. Then Aspentail paused, and pounced at Gull.

They tumbled down a hill, laughing harder with every roll. Until they stopped, panting next to eachother on their backs, looking up at the sky. Eventually, after gaining his breath, Aspentail stood up and over Gull.

“Whenever you become a warrior,” he mewed softly, “Will you become my mate?”

“Your clan won’t think it’s strange?” she asked back.

“I mean…” he sat back and shifted his paws. Gull turned to her side to keep looking at him. “You and I are the same age, we just didn’t go through our training at the same time.”

“Hmm…” she stood and dragged her tail under his chin. “Oh, Aspentail, of course.”

“R-really?”

“Sure!” she pressed her pelt to his as he hopped after her again, “Should we have kits…?”

“Kits!” Aspentail repeated, “We just became mates!”

“Mates,” Gull repeated, purring loudly, nearly falling into his fur. “Mates… Oh, I love you so much, Aspentail.”

Aspentail purred and nodded into the plumey fur of her head.

(...)

Gull purred. All her limbs still felt weak and she was only vaguely aware of the nips at her stomach and the licks at her head. Her name was Gullsong now, she became a warrior three moons ago. It’d been days since she’d given birth to her and Aspentail’s perfect little twins, Smokekit and Blizzardkit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: you can call me al - paul simons


	9. Your Love Live's DOA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> willowgaze and cypresstail bring the former's days-old kittens back to ivyclan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this one has the funniest title

Cold grass and snow melt crunched under Cypresstail’s paws. He was on his way to visit his mate Zephyr, but before he made it very far, he heard a twig snap near. Remembering he was a warrior and not a bleeding heart kittypet, he crouched down and snuck. He hoped his pale pelt would look like a snow patch out of focus.

The sound came from an area with no cover, but what was also there Cypresstail recognized.

“Willowgaze?”

The silvery tom cringed, looking like he suppressed a jump. Cypresstail’s eyes widened when he saw two little gray, damp bundles in his jaws. Hesitantly, Willowgaze set them down on top of his plumey tail. The two tried to crawl between his now-sitting legs, craving his belly.

“Cy…” he gulped, “Cypresstail.”

“What are you doing? And carrying kits?”

“Th… these are mine, Cypresstail,” he admitted, the creamy tom stepping closer and pressing a shoulder to his watery-eyed friend. “I was just going to check on them and I found their mother dead in the yard. I had to get them before her Nofurs took them away.”

Cypresstail nodded, “They look starved. Well, what are we waiting for, does Ivyclan have a nursing queen?”

“Yes.”

“Thank Starclan,” he muttered, picking up the thinner one as gently as he could, “Come on.”

Willowgaze nodded and trotted after him, neither daring to pick up their pace encase they’d hurt the kits. Under the thorn tunnel, the two ducked their heads downward to protect the soft-skinned kittens. Sunfeather was on watch, and she noticed the two. She stepped closer but, upon noticing the kits, backed away to her spot, seemingly embarrassed. As if Willowgaze didn’t have enough anxiety and embarrassment for both the clans and at least half of Starclan. 

Outside the nursery, he heard Aspentail pur and assumed he was resting his head on Gullsong’s paws, staring at their squirming kits. Willowgaze, letting out a scared sigh around his sweet little bundle, padded and stood at the nursery entrance, face dark and lit behind by moonlight.

He stepped in and placed a freezing cold bundle at Gullsong’s belly. Cypresstail did the same. Gullsong didn’t have time to question before her instincts took over and she curled around to lick the kits warm.

It took a long while, Cypresstail and Willowgaze watching on in uncertainty at what to do. The rounder kit let out a squeak before going right back to suckling, while the thinner one started to knead her stomach. She finally managed to look up at the young toms, Willowgaze looking between his paws and the kits. Aspentail seemed mortified and Cypresstail, unsurprisingly, looked emotionless with a touch of sympathy.

“What is this…?” she asked, monotoned, unsure if she should be cold or warm.

Willowgaze gulped. “Th-they’re my kits.”

Gullsong blinked, “You’ve not been a warrior for very long.”

Willowgaze dipped his head guiltily. “I know. I never meant to have them so soon, I never--” no, he decided, his kits didn’t need to know they were mi--  _ accidents.  _ They were happy little accidents.

Gullsong sighed and Willowgaze prayed to Ivystar she wouldn’t kit them out. She nodded quietly, “Yes. Yes. Do they have names?”

Willowgaze shook his head, crouching down to look at his kits better through his watery eyes. He shook his head and closed his eyes to try and blink away the water. His kits were so beautiful and their mother would never be able to see them again-- kittypets didn’t go to Starclan.

“Cypresstail…?” he whimpered, “You’re my best friend, you really helped, I love you… Would you like to name one…?”

Cypresstail smiled softly. “No, they’re your kits. I’d like to suggest naming the skinner one Featherkit, though.”

Willowgaze nodded and nuzzled his kittens. “Yes… the skinnier one will be Featherkit. The rounder one will be… Dovekit,” he managed to tear his eyes away from his kits and up at Aspentail and Gullsong. “Will you nurse them…? You don’t have to act like they’re yours, your kits don’t have to treat them like siblings, I’ll always be around for them, but they’re so weak, their mother died just a few minutes ago and they’re already so weak--”

“Shh, shh,” Gullsong mewed, sweeping her tail over Willowgaze’s tense shoulders. “Yes, I’ll nurse them, only on the account you don’t go around bringing more kittens.”

Willowgaze knew it was a joke and knew he should’ve laughed, but he couldn’t find it in himself. He curled himself up into a ball, never taking his gaze from his babies, nodding.

“Thank you so much, Gullsong…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't have kids at 18, friends
> 
> title song: i'll be there for you - the rembrandts / friends theme


	10. The Meeting Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gay rights

Dawnpaw shoved herself through another tall bit of grass and shuffled her way down into the sandy bottom. She shifted her paws awkwardly in wait.

She’d fallen in love with the Ivyclan apprentice Lionpaw. She had been since he first spoke to her and Rookpaw at a Gathering, and now they were almost warriors. She’d never had the confidence to tell him before, and still didn't really, but time was drawing closer where she’d actually appreciate sleeping. She hadn't been invited to the last Gathering, so she asked Marigoldpaw to take a message. The claw of a moon shine brightly straight up in the sky and Dawnpaw hoped the seldom-speaking snaggletooth actually had.

Then, the grass rustled and sand crunched after what felt like an eon. Dawnpaw couldn't tear her gaze from the lake shore, slowly lapping at the tips of her paws.

“Hey,” he mewed, sitting closer.

“Hi,” she glanced at his paws and slowly snaked her gaze up to his. “So, I, um… need to tell you something?”

“Yeah?”

Her gaze fell back to her paws and she tried her hardest not to focus on either of their reflections.

“Uh, well…” she sighed threw her teeth and shut her eyes tight, face straight up. “When we met at our first Gathering I fell in love with you and I’ve been sitting on it ever since.”

The two sat in silence for a long time. Once Dawnpaw cracked open an eye, she saw Lionpaw staring out into the lake, eyes wide. He was flexing his claws in the sand. Dawnpaw suppressed a sigh and turned away from him.

Eventually, Lionpaw spoke.

“...I like toms.”

Dawnpaw’s fur stood on end and she felt her heart fall to her stomach. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mewed. Then, after a moment, headbutt her shoulder. “This doesn’t ruin our friendship, does it?”

Dawnpaw smiled and suppressed a purr. “No. I figure it’ll fade off eventually.”

Lionpaw smiled and purred, “And hey, if you ever wanna have kits, I’ll help you!”

Dawnpaw scrunched her nose and smiled while Lionpaw laughed. “...worm, I guess.”

Lionpaw bust out laughing and, after a few moments, Dawnpaw let out her own quiet laughter. Lionpaw sniffed.

“You know… if you ever wanted another mate, I think there’s another big golden tabby apprentice in your own clan.”

Images of Marigoldpaw flashed through Dawnpaw’s mind. Her fur fluffed up. She blinked repeatedly and shook her head, already feeling her heart flutter.

“Okay. And  _ I  _ think there’s a certain red tabby who’d like to have this talk to you.”

Lionpaw smiled and turned around, placing the tip of his tail on Dawnpaw’s cheek. “G’night, Dawnpaw.”

“You too.”


	11. Just Add Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cloudkit has epilepsy and raccoonfur isn't very happy about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is named in honor of my friend surpirate

Raccoonfur was on watch duty of both her and Appleheart’s kits. Appleheart was off on a patrol and Junipertail, the third queen, was off in Flameclan nursing rogue kits. Raccoonfur wasn’t sure if she was more thankful for the pawful that was five kittens or that she didn’t have to deal with Lightningkit, a kitten with the energy of five.

Out of the corner of her eye, Raccoonfur could see Flowerpool watching the kits like a hawk. Raccoonfur felt her heart beat faster and sit up, turning back to the kits. All of Appleheart’s kits had black claws, just like their parents, easy to glint in sunlight. She didn’t see anything, especially not blood.

Then it happened.

Duckkit knocked Cloudkit onto the ground, and once she stood up froze for a moment. The three kits paid no real mind, tumbling over eachother and biting eachother’s ears. Then Cloudkit’s fur stood up and she toppled over, legs quivering.

Raccoonfur yowled and jumped up, but Flowerpool was faster and was already turning the kitten onto her side. Cloudkit’s eyes were wide and frantic, her jaws parted and dripping. The kittens stopped and Flowerpool kept both them and Raccoonfur away with her tail.

Without looking up, and still keeping Cloudkit pinned, Flowerpool called, “Condorwing! Feverfew, juniper, marigold, burnet!” The she-cat nodded and rushed into the den, before Flowerpool called again, “Haynose, Sagepatch-- Anyone! Go get Appleheart and Toadpelt!”

Haynose, Dawnswirl and Sagepatch all rushed out. Soon enough, Cloudkit finally closed her eyes, and lay still. Raccoonfur let out a grief-stricken wail and tried to shoulder out Flowerpool and hold her dead daughter close. Condorwing rushed over and Rookbreeze followed her with damp moss. 

Flowerpool pressed her paw to the moss and rubbed Cloudkit’s eyes. They blinked open slowly and her jaws parted again in a pant. Condorwing squeezed the water into her mouth, followed by the herbs, while Flowerpool gently encouraged her to chew.

The grass crunched as Appleheart and Toadpelt rushed by and scooped their kids into their legs, muttering prayers. After a few more seconds that felt like an eternity to Raccoonfur, Cloudkit returned to blinking and breathing normally, although she looked exhausted. She stood shakily up and pressed her head to the bottom of Raccoonfur’s chest. Raccoonfur flexed her claws and stared at Flowerpool, terrified.

“What… happened?”

“Cloudkit has epilepsy,” she answered quietly, “So do I. She’s fine, but she has seizures sometimes.”

“...will she become a warrior?”

“...I can’t promise she’ll be able to battle.”

“Oh, Starclan…”

Raccoonfur blinked. Cloudkit was going to be her perfect warrior, the best warrior in the clan--  _ Cloudstar. _

Flowerpool stiffened, “She’s  _ fine,  _ Raccoonfur. She can hunt.”

“Mama?” squeaked Cloudkit, “Can I go to bed?”

Raccoonfur looked down at her, blinking away the water that filled her eyes. She swallowed hard. “Of course, my bellflower…” she murmured, leading her back into the nursery.

Flowerpool cast a glance at Appleheart, “Keep an eye on them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title song: just add water - cavetown


	12. Just To Feel The Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fire scene with ashfur but a bit better, i would say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adopted kids are real kids

Lightning cracked across the sky. It struck right in front of Dustfeather, on a tall length of grass in front of the fresh-kill pile. She stepped back as fire overtook the blade, too large for her to stomp out. She yowled and rushed around, tucking her tail under herself and running to the base of the Lakerock. It was spreading fast, already burning the little prey inside the hole.

“Fire!” she screamed, “Fire!”

The cats looked around lazily, though quickly woke and started to get out. Mistblaze, Acornstripe and Featherpaw were helping the elders up and out. Smokewing was helping his very pregnant sister.

The flame nipped at Driftskip’s white tail and Dustfeather rushed over to her father, cuddling into his downy chest fur just as she had as a kit.

“Where’s your mother?” he mewed, a note of worry in his voice. “And Newtspots? And Redstrike, and Hawktail and Rosewind?”

Dustfeather shook her head as the fire spilled out onto more grass.

“Come on, let’s go check the dens.”

Newtspots popped out of the medicine den, dazed Larkpaw in his jaws. Lionstripe rushed forward and grabbed his son, rushing out.

Cats were pouring out of the clearing, some even using the apprentice log to get out. Dustfeather didn’t catch Spidersting. After the three finished their rounds, half the camp was engulfed in flames and it was spreading fast. The thistles of the camp entrance were caught, and for a second, the log was the safest thing. Flames quickly climbed up the walls and caught the above bushes alight too.

Driftskip swallowed hard and, legs shaking, started to climb up the log. Newtspots and Dustfeather close behind. Newtspots’ expression was unreadable, but Dustfeather was hoping no cat was left behind. Before they could escape, a cat jumped in front of them, a few tail lengths away. The log cracked and threatened to fall. Dustfeather locked in her claws and fell onto her elbows in terror. She looked through Driftskip’s fuzzy legs and could barely make out a short, fluffy yellow spotted tabby.

“Thistlespot!” Newtspots mewed, voice loud over the crackling flames.

“Thistlespot,” Driftskip breathed, a growl rising in his throat.

Thistlespot flattened her ears to her head and bared her teeth. “That’s how you greet me after all these moons, Driftskip?” he hissed, not acknowledging Dustfeather or Newtspots.

“You expected anything else?” he spat back. Dustfeather had never heard him so angry.

Thistlespot didn’t answer. “I believe we have some unfinished business, Driftskip!”

Driftskip pressed his ears to his head. “Thistlespot, please! Let my kits go, we can talk when their lives aren’t-”

“No,” she snarled. Dustfeather felt her heart leap at her aunt’s sudden hostility. “You say that like you care for them.”

“More than you do, clearly.”

Thistlespot looked like she wanted to rip his throat out at that very moment, but she restrained.

“You aren’t leaving here until you tell your kits what you’ve done.”

Dustfeather felt her heart catch in her throat. Driftskip was the sweetest cat she knew, he could never do anything bad. Driftskip bristled. Newtspots already looked ready to kill, right beside his mentor.

“Kids,” he mewed, “Before… you both were born, Spidersting asked me to be your father. You don’t… share my blood. And I understand if you never see me as a father again, but you’ll always be my kits.”

“No!” yowled Thistlespot, “You  _ hurt  _ her!”

“I did  _ not!” _ Driftskip yowled back. 

“You did!” Thistlespot was seething in rage, “You  _ forced  _ her to have your kits! How else is Dustfeather the same color as you! She’s my sister, she’d never lie to me!”

“You’d be surprised!”

Suddenly, behind her, Dustfeather heard the faint sound of stone against stone. She wobbily stood back up and strained to look over Driftskip. Spidersting! She was knocking down a thistle bush with a rock, flames slowly coming to the edge of the bushes on either side. Thistlespot looked behind her.

“Spidersting!” she cried, but before she could continue, Spidersting stood, half on the log and half on the bush.

“Let. My kits. Go,” he snarled.

“But-!” mewed Thistlespot, shocked,  _ “He  _ harmed you!”

“He did not,” Spidersting retorted.

“... _ what?” _

“He isn’t their father,” she confirmed, “Not through blood. They’re a loners. She’s long gone from the territory.”

“She?  _ Loner?”  _ Thistlespot spluttered, uncertain which she was more upset about. “You… you’ve betrayed our blood!” she screeched, gaining her barings.

“You mated with a kittypet,” Spidersting mewed, “At least loners aren’t pampered pets!”

That was the final straw. She turned around fully and stalked toward Spidersting. She looked calm as ever, and looked quietly up at Driftskip.

“Run,” she mouthed, “I love you.”

Thistlespot pounced on Spidersting, and Spidersting easily rolled her over and off the log. Thistlespot screeched as the two mollies fell. Dustfeather felt her mouth dry up as the two were lost in the flames. She didn’t have time to grieve yet, as Driftskip yowled.

_ “Run!” _

The bush Spidersting had stomped down was gathering flames close to either edge. Dustfeather didn’t need to be told twice to bolt through it after Driftskip. She felt Newtspots’ angry breath on her tailtip. She heard Driftskip mumbling to himself as thunder rolled and rain fell down too late.

“Oh, Starclan, oh Starclan….  _ Ohhh,  _ would they go to Flameclan? Or the clearing? Or the island?” he hissed to himself and turned, Dustfeather and Newtspots in tow. He stopped at a holly bush tunnel and panted for a moment before letting out a loud yowl and heading down it.

Dustfeather followed, uncomfortable and anxious and praying Spidersting and Thistlespot be alright. She didn’t expect either turn, but eventually made it out and into Flameclan’s camp.

Flowerpool, looking more old and tired than Dustfeather had ever seen, came close and started to run her paws and muzzle over each of their pelts in turn. Dustfeather was too shocked to explain. As Dustfeather concentrated on the crowd, she caught Redstrike and Hawktail, being groomed by Rosewind. Willowstar, Dapplefoot, Chivefoot and Cypress-star emerged from the Highledge and jumped down in turn. As they all reached the ground, the rain let up.

“Are any of you hurt?” called Willowstar. Driftskip shook his head, his eyes still wide. “Oh, Starclan, I’m sorry. It was such a rush I’d though you were in the crowd- we’ve never- the camp…” he sputtered. Frogflash sat up from in front of the elder’s den.

“Where are Thistlespot and Spidersting…..” Frogflash asked softly, as if he already knew the answer but couldn’t bare to hear it. Driftskip shook his head. Frogflash let out a high-pitched wail, trying to streak past Driftskip to find the two golden she-cats alive and well, but Driftskip caught him before he could.

“Th…” he gulped, “They’re gone, Frogflash.”

For a moment Frogflash was frozen, staring at the gazes of Spidersting’s kits. Dustfeather looked just as distraught as her father, but Newtspots looked like his mind was already on the warpath. Shaking and sobbing, Frogflash fell onto the tom’s shoulder.

“They’re dead….” Frogflash sobbed into his shoulder, his muffled cries the only sound in the clearing,  _ “She’s _ dead….”

Driftskip looked at his kits sympathetically. “I’ll explain to you in the morning,” he mewed, “Get settled in.”

Cypress-star, not paying attention to their drama, stepped closer and led Dustfeather and Newtspots with a flick of his tail next to Redstrike.

“We weren’t expecting guests,” he mewed, “We don’t have the room to keep you in all the dens. I know you like Redstrike’s company, Dustfeather,” he headed off with a nod and Dustfeather settled down while Newtspots stormed off past Driftskip.

Redstrike didn’t say anything, just laid down and opened her paws for her to muzzle into her chest and neck. Dustfeather not-so-happily obliged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i regret killing spiderstring and not letting her and driftskip tell their kits anything :/
> 
> title song: forest fires - lauren aquilina


	13. Honeycomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frogflash reminisces about thistlespot's death and accidentally falls in love with someone again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel so bad for frogflash, man

Frogflash sat in the middle of the training hollow. Featherpaw was stuck in camp all day after they’d gotten in a skirmish with Flameclan over a sparrow. And Blizzardwing’s kits weren't old enough to be out, still. The leaves from the two tall trees dappled sunlight across his pelt, and yes he was warm but he couldn't be more unhappy.

Two moons ago his mate Thistlespots died. Two moons ago his  _ former  _ mate died, they'd split long before her death. He sighed to himself, closing his eyes and remembering every cruel moment.

It started half-way into their apprenticeship. Thistlepaw told Frogpaw that she was so deeply in love, she wanted to be together and have a family as soon as possible. And Frogpaw agreed, and as soon as he got his warrior name, five moons after Thistlespots, they were mates. And what a wonderful mate Thistlespots was.

It all came crashing down when they and some friends were talking about their ancestry. Swallowwhisker elbowed him and told him he was the one who held his scruff and carried him home from the starving kittypet.

Thistlespots got an evil glint in her eyes, and that same night, yelled at him about lying to her, despite him not remembering himself.

A few moons later Thistlespots and he made up, and they were back to being mates. But Thistlespots used his blood against him every chance he got, and it stung terribly, but he let it happen because he loved her so blindly.

Then Thistlespots got pregnant. Frogflash was ecstatic, and deflated the moment Thistlespots announced it wasn't his and she’d be raising it alone. No, not his, another kittypet’s-- another kittypet’s while they were still mates. Frogflash still couldn't guarantee he was over that one. As soon as she gave birth, she banned Frogflash from seeing the kit. As karma would have it the clan forced her to suckle Swallowwhisker’s kits after his mate had died.

Dawnstar, out of sympathy, made Lionkit Frogflash’s first apprentice. He loved Lionpaw just like the son he should have been. Thistlespots was out of all of the kits lives the second they could eat fresh-kill, but that didn't stop her from shooting foxtrap teeth at he, Lionpaw and Dawnstar every chance she got, and Frogflash wondered why he still loved her.

Then Spidersting, Thistlespots’ sister had kits. Kits purely of Ivyclan. That was, up until recently. Thistlespots had always seen the mate Spidersting claimed, Driftskip, as an evil tom. She believed he’d forced Spidersting to have kits with him.

The night she died, the camp caught on fire. She blocked the way for Driftskip and his kits and Redstrike, his daughters mate, to escape, questioning why he would do such a thing. Driftskip and his kits were speechless. Spidersting confronted Thistlespots, and after Thistlespots said she'd never let such a terrible cat go, Spidersting revealed they weren't his kits. They were a kittypet’s.

That drove Thistlespots mad. She leaped at Spidersting, knocking her off the log and into the flames, never to come back up. As soon as Frogflash heard the news, he almost ran into the camp, desperate to find them chatting happily over a mouse like they used to, but Driftskip stopped him before he could, and he spent the night sobbing into his chest in Flameclan’s camp.

Frogflash sighed and shook, sobs threatening to take hold of his body again. He'd sworn to himself so many times that he no longer loved Thistlespots but there was always a voice in the back of his head that cried  _ never! _

Almost as if the thought of a plumey, white, soft-as-down chest summoned him, Driftskip slowly padded into the clearing.

He smelled of rosemary and lavender, a few springs sticking out of his pelt. In his jaws he held a neatly-wrapped lead package, being suspended by a few willow leaves.

Driftskip placed it at Frogflash’s paws and laid down across from him, purring. As Driftskip unwrapped the gift, Frogflash felt an all-too-familiar strain in his chest. He felt as if his ears caught alight, so red-hot he could've sworn Driftskip could see them. Time seemed to slow as the thought back.

His chest ached everytime Driftskip held him close, soothing his nerves, and assuring him he’d be alright. Every night he woke up in a panic, cuddling up next to him unknowingly because he made him felt safe. He recognized it. And he hated that fact.

He was just an apprentice again. Curled up next to a cat confessing their love to him, asking to start a family, and Frogpaw waiting with baited breath to agree.

Love.

He’d fallen in love with Driftskip.

He was brought back to the present by a light cuff on the ear. In front of them sat a honeycomb, dripping and the same gold as Thistlespots’ pelt.

“Featherspots and Silverflash took out a bees nest,” Driftskip informed, “Squirrelbreeze said honey goes bad quickly and gave a bit to Blazekit. Now he's let us all have our share. I didn't want you to miss out.”

Frogflash felt his stomach fill at the sentiment. “Thanks,” he said simply, softly.

“Are you alright? You love honey.”

Frogflash didn't know how to tell him. It was such a rush. One thought of his former mate being terrible, crash into another crush.

He nodded, licking at the liquid-filled holes. Driftskip followed, their noses touching for the entirety. Frogflash almost had to force himself to eat the honey, Driftskip’s presence was sweet enough as is.

Driftskip sat up licking his lips, followed by a light burp, then a chuckle, then an apology. Frogflash paid it no mind.

“Hey, so, I've been meaning to ask you something.”

Frogflash felt his heart shoot up to his chin. It… it couldn't be, could it?

“Shoot.”

“Well, um, I know you're probably still upset over Thistlespots, but um. The nights after she died, when we were in Flameclan’s camp, and you couldn't stop crying against me. I-I felt something. I figure,” he chuckled lightly, “You know just what that feeling was.”

Frogflash blinked slowly. He tried to think back of Thistlespots, yelling at himself that he didn't love her anymore. The fighting voice wasn't there. Could it be? The fighting voice was not speaking about falling out of love with Thistlespots, but, falling out of love forever.

He sighed and smiled, his eyes watery. “Oh, Driftskip,” he said airily, “I think I'm falling in love all over again.”

“...with me?” He asked, hope edging his voice. 

Frogflash nodded shakily, plunging his head back against his shoulder, purring. Sobs tugged at him, not not of sadness, of… happiness.

Driftskip laid his head atop his back in a hug like they'd done so many times before.

“So…” he asked, not moving, “mates?”

Frogflash whimpered hopefully, to which Driftskip chuckled.

“Mates… I'm mates with Frogflash,” he muttered, almost cheekily, “I like the sound of that.” He leaned back and met Frogflash’s eyes, he’d quickly followed after feeling Driftskip stir.

“And I like the sound of  _ you,”  _ Driftskip purred, lowering his voice and pressing their noses together.

“I love you, Driftskip…” Frogflash murmured before Driftskip could. His voice was still shaking and full of emotion and he got the twisted feeling it wouldn't be going for a long time.

“I love you too, my honeycomb.”


	14. Just As I Bottomed Out

"Lots of ceremonies to preform, today."

Wingkit beamed. Blizzardtail, her mother, was grooming Quailkit. This was it, she was finally becoming Wingpaw! Willowstar purred and sat up, sweeping his tail over the rock as Ivyclan gathered around the Lakerock.

Hailstorm, the father of Wingkit's foster brother, Blazekit, padded up. He gave the ginger tom one lick to his forehead before retreating back to the crowd. Wingkit could swear she saw the stars in his eyes- that was the most affection Hailstorm had ever shown him.

"Featherpaw!" Willowstar called. The fluffy gray cat padded forward, fur ruffled like Fawnspark hadn't groomed them. Then again, Wingpaw figured, maybe Featherpaw's fur couldn't be tamed.

Willowstar nodded in greeting and but Featherpaw didn't look less angry than they always did. They nodded back nevertheless.

"I, Willowstar, leader of Ivyclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. They have trained to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Featherpaw, do you swear to uphold the warrior code and protect your clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"Yessir."

"Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Featherpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Featherstalk. Ivyclan honors your dedication and stealth."

Featherstalk dipped their head as the clan called out their name. Once it died down, they ducked into the crowd. Wingkit guessed they were finding their mother.

"Now, Quailkit," Willowstar mewed, gently tapping his tail to the rock. For a moment Wingkit felt a seed of resentment, but her mother had told her in advance that Quailkit had a very special ceremony that needed to be performed before his siblings.

"Spirits of Starclan, you know everycat's gender. I now ask you strip the cat who stands before you of theirs, for it no longer stands for what they are. At the approval of our warrior ancestors, I aks you see this cat as a tom, in life and death."

Quailkit beamed, his lilac and cream tail against the grass as the clan called his name.

"Now," Willowstar said with a purr, pointing at the nursery, "The lot of you."

Wingkit bounced forward. Soon enough she was Wingpaw, and her mentor was Doveheart, Willowstar's very own daughter. After the ceremony, Wingpaw's siblings went separate ways. She looked up at Doveheart expectantly.

"We're cleaning Gullsong, Aspentail and Swallowwhisker of their ticks," she mewed.

Wingpaw blew a raspberry and let her ears fall back.

(...)

Wingpaw didn't have quite the growth of her siblings. She was short. If Hailstorm didn't have just a big pelt, Blazepaw would've been as huge as him. She was half-way through her apprenticeship and a solid nine moons old.

Today she was going into her first battle.

Doveheart wrapped her plumey tail around the small gray she-cat's shoulders and purred.

"You be careful out there, kid," she mewed, "I'm going to stick close to you."

"I'm not a kit," Wingpaw shot back, "I don't need to be protected."

"No. But I will anyway."

(...)

Battle was horrifying, Wingpaw realized. Doveheart had a nasty shoulder wound and Wingpaw had lost several nicks in her ears. Doveheart clawed the cheek of a white tom with gray legs. Once he landed back he dipped his head and scampered off.

Wingpaw panted and looked around in case anything else was coming. She saw nothing, but she did see Twirlpaw getting torn up by a cat. Her fur was so dark ginger Wingpaw couldn't tell blood from fur. Wingpaw felt anger dwell up inside her and, without thinking, launched herself at the warrior.

Wingpaw clawed blindly, every move Doveheart had taught her out of her mind. The dark she-cat kicked her over, but Wingpaw didn't let go. They rolled a few tail-lengths from the battlefield. She saw Twirlpaw's brown pelt dash off out of the corner of her eye.

Wingpaw hissed and raised a paw, striking right across the dark cat's eye. This set her over edge, her own caw slicing right through Wingpaw's throat. She suddenly couldn't breathe.

The cat tossed her aside like a piece of dried moss and ran back into the battle. A few seconds later, Doveheart and Twirlpaw came rushing back. Wingpaw tried to sit up and take a breath, tell them what cat had done this. She winded up coughing and her head fell down.

Suddenly her body felt cold. It felt like her body was closing in on her. She could breathe… her throat was fine.

_Am I dead?_

She tried to sit up, suddenly strong again. When she looked back down however…

She was bleeding and her amber eyes were glazed. The storm that had been trying to start for hours had. Twirlpaw was curled against her stomach. Doveheart let out a yowl. She then jumped up onto a tree branch and let out another. Wingpaw pulled herself all the way up from her body and watched over the scene alongside her sister.

Slowly, the warriors quit fighting. Once everyone had stopped, Doveheart leaped down and directed them all to Wingpaw's body. Smokewing stepped closer.

"No…" he whispered.

Doveheart nodded sadly.

Chivefoot, the Flameclan deputy stepped forward and dipped his head to Doveheart.

"I'm so sorry."

Wingpaw felt a tug at her shoulder, and when she looked up, she saw a tan starry-furred cat. Was that Ivystar? Whoever the cat was, she pointed up with her muzzle. Wingpaw nodded and let the cat lead her toward the rainy sky.

(...)

Wingpaw had been apart of Starclan for three moons. Every day after she marked her third, she drifted down to the Starpool and padded to Ivyclan's camp to see if her siblings were becoming warriors.

Today was the one day she was correct.

Her heart warmed as Willowstar announced her brother's names, Quailheart and Icewhisker. But at Twirlpaw's, she could've sworn it skipped a beat.

"And Twirlpaw," the silvery tom mewed, "You had a request for your name, and after thinking it over, I've agreed. You asked to be named after the cat you swore saved your life."

"Yes, sir."

Willowstar nodded, "Then, from this moment onward, your name will be Twirlfeather."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(
> 
> title song: the beer - kimya dawson


End file.
